


Stress Relief

by ribbonelle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Clubbing, College Student AU, Dancing, Dirty Dancing even but not really, Drinking habits, JeanMarco Week, M/M, boys being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/pseuds/ribbonelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco had his own way of coping with stress and he prefers letting loose in a setting where he's entirely among strangers, but he meets a colleague and things might not be too bad when he relieves stress with Jean Kirschtein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> Super late entry for JeanMarco week and hey I'm definitely not following the themes chronologically, but I felt like writing about them again with a dash of Marco dancing like a maniac. I'm sorry, I've never went clubbing and I'm definitely not familiar with how the stereotypical male dancing is in clubs and I suck at writing that. This was pretty rushed and silly and stuff but I hope it provides amusement. P/S: I also know nothing about alcohol.  
> Theme I went with is: MUSIC.
> 
> The 'Wop' scene inspired by this genius piece of art: http://jakkobu.tumblr.com/post/58002176610/im-so-embarrassed  
> I also hope the youtube link works, and the video is the right one (technical difficulties) but if anything, it's 'Prom Night' by Anamanaguchi

The bass thrummed through his blood vessels, and his heart beat to the drum’s rhythm as he danced, just another body gyrating with all of the others. Marco wasn’t one to frequent clubs, but when he felt like it, when he was into it, he lost himself. He wouldn’t drink too much; he needed to get home in one piece and he rarely brought friends when he planned on clubbing; but he’d dance till he’s sore. He had danced with girls he didn’t know, guys he never met and there had been quite a few phone numbers slipped into the pocket of his jeans but he was used to that, only flashing his temporary dance partners a grin and moved away to focus on the music instead.

It was his form of stress relief, his way of sweating out frustration and emotion. It was how he coped.

The song ended with a loud note and he stopped moving around after everyone on the dance floor simultaneously threw their hands in the air, laughing and drunkenly yelling for more good music. Marco smiled to himself, his breathing a little labored from the exertion. His arms and legs were aching slightly, but it felt good and he was on that familiar high he gets from dancing. He retreated to the bar for a drink nevertheless, to rehydrate, and smiled at the bartender and asked for a vodka soda. He hauled himself up on a stool and watched the people dance, eager to get back to the floor, his fingers drumming patiently against his thigh as he waited.

There was movement in his peripheral vision and it was ignored, until someone spoke in a voice that sounded familiar, “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Marco turned towards the source of the voice with wide eyes, and he made a noise of disbelief at who he saw. He knew this guy. Jean Ki-something, they went to the same university, “Oh. Hey. I couldn’t say I’d expect you to be here too.”  Marco smiled at his colleague still, they weren’t too close with each other but Marco thought of Jean as a nice person. They shared a few classes together and Jean seemed to be the loner type, and he picked up a few fights with Eren Jaegar but aside from that? Nothing troublesome. In fact, Marco thought of him as one of the fairly interesting students.

He didn’t want his first impression on Jean to happen in a club, though.

“…Mark, right?”

“Marco, actually. And you’re Jean.”

“Fuck,” Jean swatted at his own forehead with a hand, and looked apologetic, “Sorry man, I’m sort of bad with names.” Marco waved his hand in dismissal, the smile on his face proof enough that it was alright.

“You come here to dance, right?” Jean smiled in return, pulling himself up on the stool situated next to Marco’s own, “Saw you earlier. You dance pretty good.”

Marco felt slight mortification heat up his cheeks because he knew how he looked when he danced, especially when he was letting loose. It was the reason he never asks anyone he knows along with him. He looked wild. “Uh, well. I’m not that great. What about you, hm? Come here to dance too?”

Jean shook his head and lifted his glass, “Nnnope. I come here to get wasted.”

Light laughter bubbled up from the other man’s lips, and he grinned, “Stress relief, then. I just hope you’re good enough of a drinker to remember drinking water in intervals. I doubt you’d want to spend your Sunday morning throwing up and swallowing aspirin.”

The brunette (or was it blonde? Either way, the two-toned look goes quite decent on Jean) grimaced, and shrugged, “You’d be surprised at how bad I am at drinking, honestly.” He took a moment to down the drink he had in his hand, before pushing the glass away and focused on Marco, “So, dancing. Your stress relief?”

“Yeah. It gets a little weird when someone I know sees me, though,” Marco said a little quietly, and Jean raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, shaking his head.

“I can get that, but trust me; I’m not the type to judge. I usually don’t give a damn.” He placed his hands down and glanced at the dance floor with a smirk, “They play good music. And they’ve got cheap beer. I can see the appeal.” He gestured at the bartender for another beer afterwards.

Marco would never know where the urge came from, or how the idea was even planted into his mind but he slid off his stool and his smile curved into a smirk, “You wanna dance?”

It was interesting how Jean spluttered on his drink and got all wide-eyed, “W-what? Dance? I’m not too good at it, man, really.”

“Who cares? You don’t judge, right? I don’t too, not when it comes to this. Let’s just let loose. Dance like idiots. Come on.”

Jean’s eyes darted from Marco to the mass of bodies writhing to the music a few times, before there was a weird sort of determination in them and he slammed his glass on the counter, beer half-finished, and stood up, “Fuck it. Sure, why the hell not.”

Marco grinned victoriously and led Jean to the dance floor with a gesture. The music switched to something that [sounded techno-ish and upbeat](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTBSQKh8teE), and Marco turned to face Jean once they were in the midst of people, starting to move to the rhythm. Poor Jean looked pretty out of place as he wore an almost bewildered expression, looking around as if people might start laughing at any minute. Marco couldn’t stifle a few giggles and he reached out to pat Jean’s shoulder, “Hey. Relax. Just go nuts, okay? We don’t know anyone here.”

The boy stared at him before nodding, taking a deep breath and smiled, swaying slightly to the music. It was only a matter of time before the song escalated, and Marco began blocking out everything else. He had the habit of really getting into it, closing his eyes and just focusing on how it felt to have his body move so carelessly, abandoning poise and composure. His hair whipped against his forehead, and he had a smile on his face. He opened his eyes for a split second and found Jean staring, but it was different than how his other dance partners/strangers had before. Jean’s staring at Marco with amazement.

Then Jean’s mouth curved upwards in a hearty grin and he started _really_ moving. He actually began a scuffling motion with his feet, before breaking out into a serious shuffle to the music and it was Marco’s turn to stare. He broke into laughter then and followed suit, two dudes shuffling on the dance floor and people were staring and laughing and everyone started joining in.

Marco felt alive.

He felt breathless with the adrenaline rush, with the vigorous movement, and he couldn’t stop grinning just as wide as Jean was. Song transitioned into another song, and they danced like maniacs, like dumbasses and it felt great. Marco was used to dancing alone, or dancing without really paying heed to anyone else, but with Jean, he took every opportunity to dance _with_ the man. Jean was great, he let loose the same way Marco usually did, and he smiled at Marco like they shared a similar joke, like they knew things no one else knew about.

Dancing became even more enjoyable than usual, with them laughing and moving around each other in a way so familiar it was dizzying. There was even an instance where ‘Wop’ came on, and as Marco started shaking his ass coincidentally (maybe not too coincidentally) in Jean’s direction, the brunette smacked at the air dangerously close to Marco’s ass, and hell, it made people point and laugh and blush and dance even harder and it was amazing.

Marco’s shirt was beginning to dampen with sweat after six songs or so (thank god he chose dark colours but the way the fabric clung to his chest was telling) and he was panting with exhaustion while his cheeks ache from how much he was grinning when Jean grabbed his arm, making him turn around. Marco wanted to think that the touch should have been electric, it should have shocked his system but it was heavy and warm on his skin and he never wanted Jean to stop touching him. Jean was breathing heavily as well, a dumb smile still plastered onto his face, “I need timeout. I’ll pass out if we go on, seriously.”

The freckled man chuckled and nodded, letting Jean pull him away from the crowd and to the bar again. Jean ordered drinks for them both and turned to Marco again, laughing, “That was the most fucking fun I’ve had in a club in my life!”

“Me too!” Marco replied with enthusiasm, not really caring how dumb he must sound at the moment, “Never thought dancing with anyone would be that great, ever.”

Jean bared his teeth in a grin and winked, “Maybe it’s all about who you dance with, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed breathlessly, and the reason he was out of breath wasn’t solely because of the dancing, “Hey, do you wanna go out sometime?”

Jean looked at him for a few seconds in silence before he nodded jerkily, suddenly looking very much like a flustered maiden, “Yes! I mean, yeah. Yeah, please.”

There was fleeting skin contact when Jean handed Marco his drink soon after; their fingers brushed; and that, was electric.


End file.
